


When Stars Call

by Fire_Cat_Ramblings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Long Shot, Space Battles, Space Flight, Space Pirates, more character tags to be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:30:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Cat_Ramblings/pseuds/Fire_Cat_Ramblings
Summary: Life was not smooth aboard the Rascal, but until that day they'd held together. Now with her ship captured, crew missing, and escape pod launched into who knows what corner of space, pilot and bounty hunter Chaser Quill must contend with a whole new type of target. "Rescued" by Grand Admiral Thrawn himself she must learn to quickly navigate the rules of the Empire while under the watch of one of their most lauded military men.With nothing but the clothes on her back, a blaster and an old data pad, will Chaser prove to be enough of an asset to be kept alive? Or will she crumple beneath the might of the grand Chiss Admiral himself?





	When Stars Call

“CHASER I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU CRASH US I WILL KILL YOU!” The familiar shouting of the mercenary captain rang through the hall, and even though he was nowhere near the cockpit Chaser Quill could hear him as though he were right by her ear. For a brief moment, she felt pity for the rest of the crew who were no doubt still struggling to keep the Rascal up and running as she dodged the trio of pirate ships they’d managed to hyper-jump directly into. Force be damned, if this was her lot, she’d take her chances with the rebels!

“KORHO SHUT YOUR SHITHOLE AND LET ME FLY OR ELSE I’LL SPIT ROAST YOUR TOGRUTAN ASS!” Well not as though she didn’t have spare breath to curse the idiot out, even as she had to damn near yank the ancient controls of their old YT-2400 to just barely avoid crashing into a larger ship. On the down side, they were now partially scraping above the vessel which was firing directly at them. On the up side, they were also managing to take out about nine tenths of the guns simply by ramming into them, and somehow the sturdy old hull was still in one piece. Around her lights flashed and the old system screamed, and she knew that one high pitched wheezing sound meant they were about to lose an engine, or the toaster had gone on the fritz again. They were never positive which it was until one started smoking.

As she not-so-quietly cursed at the enemy ship in a myriad of tongues and dialects the woman tightened her fists on the controls, clenched her teeth, and took a hard turn, finally getting them off the massive slapped-together pirate vessel as it continued to try and fire up at them with its single remaining gun. While usually this would be a moment to celebrate, the choice to go up only brought her face to face with what seemed at first glance to be flying junk. Quickly though it turned out to be a trio of TYE-wing fighters, all of which were very focused on taking down her own loveable rust bucket. Fortunately for the meager crew of five, their pilot had no intention of letting this happen. Letting out a loud burst of laughter Chaser quickly slammed on the controls for their weapons system, reminding herself to kiss their heavy weapons specialist, Togei, for the brilliant idea of adding in so many new toys. As with any YT model they had modified their ship to hell and back, with guns upon guns. Adding to the already beefed-up primary turret they had half a dozen other smaller laser turrets that swiveled to quickly lock onto the poor junkers. Chaser was many things, a pilot was one, and an excellent gunner was another, controlling the weapons on their modified system with ease and grace, barely cutting down on their maneuverability in the process. While the ship did have a number of guns, they’d also had to modify the Rascal so that it could be piloted by only one person, as she was unfortunately the only pilot among the crew. Briefly she recalled there were four other people on this ship who could fire these guns, but as the barrage came in from the scrapped together TYE-wings Chaser remembered that she didn’t really have time to call for one of them.

One hand was on the steering, yanking them upward into an aileron roll, and the other on the now outstretched control system for their guns. In that moment her mind became clear, the world became calm and silent, the screaming and cursing from the crew faded into nothingness and everything stilled into a void of calm. All that existed right then was the ship, the whirrs and hums, the beeps and screeching, and underneath it all a gentle thrumming that reminded her of just how strong a beast this vessel was. It was old, that much was true, it had been gutted of half its primary systems before Korho had bought it ages ago, and nothing in the universe could save the paint job at this point, but the SCRV Rascal, stupid name and all, was in her mind the best damn ship in the galaxy. It happened like lightning then, the movement of her hands on the controls, the crackle of all the weapons systems firing nearly at once, and the flashes of light outside as all three ships went down, hurtling towards the pirate cruiser that Chaser had lured them over.

Without even breathing she focused her fire once more, now on the second and smaller vessel that was aiming straight for them, six repeated blasts hardly did a damned thing, but that wasn’t all she had planned. In that moment, she and the Rascal were almost one being, controls felt like an extension of herself, and her mind focused entirely on the movements she knew were coming. It came hurtling towards them, no doubt intending to pin her between themselves and the debris from the large cruiser, but she was far more flexible than that. Dropping down the Rascal avoided fire, aiming its guns at the pirate’s thrusters while they attempted to reverse course, focusing its fire on the debris in order to try and clear a way through, or perhaps because they were desperately firing at where they thought she should be. Now underneath the doomed ship she looked about, attempting to search for the remaining vessel even as all primary weapons focused on attacking the underbelly of the ship to truly remove all threats.

And there it was, attempting to make an escape despite what seemed to be one hobbled engine, no doubt taken out by stray fire either from herself or one of the other pirates. All weapons locked on, guns raised, as what felt like hell on fire rained down around them, they were out of range… but something deeper told her to fire, something deeper said it would hit, and when that deep force pulled her, Chaser never doubted. One shot, all guns, and somehow, tired as they were, weak though they may be, the barrage was enough and the vessel went up in an explosion of color and death.

Moving forward Chaser came out from under the now failing pirate vessel that she had used to shield herself from floating debris. The coolness of space washed over her, the silence serene and powerful as she drifted forward, away from the wreckage that she’d caused.

It was only then that sound came crashing back into her world and the pilot at last took a deep breath. Back in the cockpit she once more heard the straining and screaming of alarms and engines, crewmates hollering back and forth as they traded off tools and patched together what they could in an attempt to keep their ship together. Somehow though she knew, the ship would be fine, even without their constant care and maintenance, the old Rascal wasn’t about to fail now. Standing up she moved down the long hall towards the main circular area of the ship, where the rest of the crew was running between engineering and the weapons cooling systems they’d installed in their cargo hold. It was only when Chaser was damn near at the circuity bay at the center of the ship that another coherent voice called out what wasn’t a request for more aid.

“WHO THE FUCK LET ME HIRE A BLIND ASS PILOT?!?!” The comment from Korho made her shake her head, and on instinct Chaser reached a hand up to rub the bandages over her empty eye sockets. Looking inside the circuitry bay she spotted the Togrutan, who was still struggling to keep the sparking systems in check, and still hadn’t noticed her standing right there. His bright orange hand grabbed the door frame and soon the man’s face appeared, the distinct white and red patterns unmistakable among their crew and contrasting the blank grey interior of the ship. Even with the brown bomber jacket that served as a sort of uniform among the crew he still stood out like a candy cane come to life.

 “Last I checked you ran off the last pilot, not my fault I was the only one broke enough to take up your offer.” Even leaning against the wall Chaser still stood nearly three inches above their so-called captain, and that was including the white and red horns that sprouted from his head. Her own barely tanned skin and bright copper hair contrasted the dull colors of the ships interior, but it was nothing like his bright self.

Grumbling he left the still sparking circuitry bay, dusting his hands off and grabbing up a small toolkit that rested by the door. Thankfully Korho’s attempts had managed to calm the beast but without a doubt their de-facto engineer Vezbica would need to take a look at it to get all systems properly functioning again.  “How you can pull stunts like that without eyes… you’re a fucking demon you know that Chase?”

She made no response to his comment however, used to the good-natured ribbing by now, especially when there was a point to it. Over the upper half of her face, covering her eyes, was a simple black band of cloth that hid her lack of eyes well enough. Yet despite this she’d always found her way, always managed something, always been able to move as if uninhibited by this seemingly crippling defect of her birth. Never once had she questioned how she could sense the world around her, yet somehow, she could, out into space and beyond, sometimes better even than those around her with proper vision.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up taller, hands on her hips as she looked towards the engineering bay. “Yeah well, demon or not I just saved your ass, where’s Vez anyway?”

“Still trying to get the engines to relax, I’m going to check that the weapons and speeder are still in one piece, you find him and get him on this alright?” In the brief moment they passed on the way to their destination the pair traded a simple bump of their forearms, an acknowledgement they were long since used to giving.

Even though a few floor panels had come flying off during the dogfight the ship was still in one piece, but you would hardly expect that once you stepped into the main engineering bay. Panels were tossed about, wires spewing like some mass of noodles from the walls and floor, and sparks rained down from a particularly volatile set of wires overhead. At least nothing had blown up, Chaser thought thankfully as she went further in. A few rustling noises indicated where the engineer was before she saw his bright purple head tails poking out of a hole on the floor. Pausing to look down at the light purple head of Vezbica, his headtails twitching with the rest of him as the Twi’lek worked on putting what seemed to be two very important and heavy wires back together. Unable to help herself Chaser leaned down, a grin on her face as she whispered in a deep tone in his ear. “Not about to blow us all up are ya Vez?”

The sudden whisper from beside him made the skinny man yelp, his goggles skewing to the side and bomber jacket half falling from his shoulders. Turning around he swiftly looked towards Chaser, mouth scrunched up and his one visible eye glaring at her weakly. He utterly hated being frightened like that, but she never ceased her teasing. “Damnit Chase! You’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack!”

As he launched into chiding her for her surprise move Vezbica began to expertly reattach wires here and there. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he worked once he was annoyed and ranting. That was part of the reason she never stopped teasing the poor man. While he lingered on some point about not taking twi’lek reflexes lightly a figure appeared around the corner. It a large form, male, nearing ten feet in height with his head very nearly scraped the ceiling of the ship and his large grey muzzle oddly curved into a smile as he wiped traces of dust from his bomber jacket, holding an almost massive wrench in one hand. “While I doubt this ship would be so discourteous as to blow us all to pieces after such a remarkable victory, I would prefer knowing if there is anything I should do to help our odds?”

Again, the Twi’lek jumped, rounding on the newly appearing Nelvaanian male as his goggles now well and truly fell from his face. “Damnit Vorvos! Between Chaser and you I’m going to an early grave.” He looked between them before settling his eyes on the now chuckling lupine-like male, Vesbica’s own eyes narrowing severely. “Did you keep that panel from busting open? We don’t need any more radiation problems.”

Tossing the wrench towards his friend the large man grunted, coming forward and placing a hand on Chaser’s head and nodding. “I did, though I still do not understand your concern over this radiation.” He ruffled the woman’s short spikey hair like she was some sort of pup, and earned a laugh from her as he looked out towards the rest of the ship. “We’re perfectly fine now after all, it did no harm, why are we concerned over it all?”

“Vorvos radiation doesn’t work like that…” Vezbica sighed and looked towards Chaser pleadingly, but the woman could only shrug. Their friend still had quite a lot of trouble understanding the technology they all thought of as so common, even after nearly twenty years among the stars and ships of the galaxy. It was a hard thing he lived with, and while they wished to help him, the most they could ever hope to do was sit down and start from the beginning time after time. Regardless of that old issue though there was another more pressing matter to deal with at the moment.

“Oh, but anyway, Vez, Kor wanted you to go check out the cooling-” Just as Chaser was beginning to explain what the captain needed a loud scream of pain filled the ship. A very familiar scream. The trio looked at each other for just a split second and internally cringed, before Vorvos and Chaser were off and running. Dropping the wires the engineer leapt forward and rushed after Chaser as the three quickly entered the cargo hold and found what they knew would be there.

Locked in a losing battle, was their captain, stuck in an expert chokehold initiated by none other than Togei herself. The old soldier was damn near growling, looking every inch the Zabrak she was. “YOU LITTLE FUCKING ASSHAT I AM GOING TO END YOU HERE AND NOW!!”

It didn’t take long to figure out what was going on, one look and anyone could see it. There was a heavy laser rifle lying on one side, still cooling after having just been shot, and a tell-tale black mark on the back of the crew’s shared speeder bike. Choking and gasping for air Korho reached out a hand towards the others who all stood there with the same tired expression. Breathing a deep sigh Vorvos came forward and pried Togei off the captain, while Vezbica rushed to the togrutan’s aid trying to make sure he was breathing properly. Chaser meanwhile looked between the two before slowly her face turned towards Korho. “You touched the speeder, didn’t you?”

“I swear, by the fucking Force if I must, that I did NOT do it on purpose!” Gasping for air the man’s red face and bright eyes pleaded for mercy, holding up his palms in a universal sign of defeat.

Meanwhile Vorvos was having a good deal of trouble keeping Togei from getting out of his grasp, only managing this much due to his sheer size, but her ferocity was going to win out sooner rather than later. “You cock sucking liar! I knew I shouldn’t trust you! You bitch ass motherfucking-”

It hardly mattered how long they had been on the ship together, even after all these years Togei was still a ball of rage and anger. If those horns on her head could cause more damage to Korho than a mild scrape they knew she would’ve used them long ago. The woman was always especially volatile after a dogfight, always getting riled up after being unable to participate. That was Chaser’s job after all. Friendly as they were when Togei was calm though, that all went out the window when the woman launched into one of these rages and directed it at them.

As Togei continued her assault of foul language upon Korho, Chaser’s mouth began to twitch, her nose scrunching up and foot tapping against the floor. Soon the captain was firing back with just as much fervor and tenacity as the other woman, hissing at her as his hands took on a clawing gesture at his sides. Vorvos was able to do little but stumble back as the Zabraki wrenched herself free, only stopping when Vezbica started screaming to calm down and launching himself in the way of her assault. Even with this action her rage never ceased, and now Korho was just as fired up lunging at her with poor Vezbica right in the middle. All of this aggression was making the Nelvaanian twitch, his snout pulling up and lips revealing his teeth, a low growl coming as old and painful instincts came rushing up again.

“Silence!” Finally, Chaser’s head came up and her voice hissed out, quiet and commanding resonating throughout the room with a deep coldness. All around the room fell silent, a pressure seeming to emanate from her for just a moment, long enough to be felt before vanishing once more. It was a brief moment but it was enough to matter, and enough to send a splitting headache straight through her skull. Clutching her head Chaser groaned, but the strange pressure from earlier had its effect, and the group calmed, now they had a different set of worries.

Soon Togei was at one side, and Korho was at the other helping her to keep standing as Chaser’s head throbbed, Vorvos rushing to get the med kit.  Vezbica was right in front of her, one hand on her head and the other double checking her pulse. Worry was all that came from them now as they tried to help their friend through this unseen pain. It was something they all knew she possessed, something they thought but never said, praying to be wrong in all of their assumptions. It had been years since the Jedi were wiped from the galaxy, since the force had been regulated to a mere legend, and life changed for all those who held even the barest scrap of that strange power. Perhaps that was why they continued to say she was human, despite so many signs saying otherwise. Perhaps that’s why they never questioned her on where she’d gotten the scars on her forehead. Perhaps, at the end of it all, that was why they simply accepted her without question.

Chaser Quill was many things, an ace pilot, a crack shot, a scoundrel, a bounty hunter, and above all, their friend. For as odd as their group was, as scattered their races and as strange their histories, they came together one way or another. And they would continue to do so, for each person so matter what the circumstances or odds, they would find a way to band together. There was no escaping that singular thought in this moment.

_And then the first blast rocked the ship._

There was no time for orders or for talk, despite her aching head Chaser raced towards the cockpit as everyone else manned their posts, ready to try and hold the ship together with spit and prayer as whatever this was continued to fire repeatedly at them. Already shields were at bellow half power, and by the time she’d grabbed hold of the controls Chaser already knew it was too late.

Out there, resting just out of their line of fire, was a much larger vessel than the ones they had faced before. The pirate fleet hadn’t been as small as she’d assumed, as she spotted the same shared insignia on this new craft. In that moment, some part of her felt just how fatal of an assumption that was about to be.

There was shouting from the engineering and circuitry bay that filtered through, even between the hits they took and the groaning sounds of the ship their voices could be heard clearly. No way, there wasn’t a chance in hell they were about to go down like this. If they could just try and make a hyper-jump they would be fine. Her hands were flying over the controls, steering them away, trying to avoid the hell that was whatever that ship had in store for them. In all her years, she’d never truly seen a group of pirates this large and persistent. Even as she attempted to move off they continued to fire and soon the sound of engines sputtering and hacking became clear. They were dead in the water in about five seconds, their hyper drive engine still too tired from the earlier jump and power draining by the moment.

They wouldn’t be able to move right now but they had to escape, leaping from her seat she grabbed an old pack and raced down the hall to the escape pod, watching as fires sprung up all around the ship and the rest of the crew raced towards the same direction. Coming out of the cargo hold and engineering bay everyone made for the main pod located down the hall from the cockpit with the speed of people about to meet their end. But it was too late, Chaser was closest of all, reaching it quickly, looking back towards her friends and watching in horror as the hallway between them sparked to life with flames and flailing wires, and the hall behind her nearly caved in from the pressure of another high-powered hit. Coughing through the smoke, she saw Vezbica moving his hands, flailing, urging her towards the pod as the rest ran back, trying to reach the secondary escape pod, before being pulled after by Korho who only had time to cast her a single panicked look before racing off with the rest.

What happened next became a hurried blur as the pilot launched herself into the pod, slamming the door shut and ejecting in barely a second. From the single window provided on the door she watched as the pirate ship came clearer, and while she was launched away from the ship she called home, a smaller vessel came out of the massive beast to begin trying to tow the Rascal towards their captor. For a brief moment though there was hope, the sight of steam showed a release valve working as the second escape pod launched…

Only to then became trapped in the claws of a second ship, being towed towards the pirates once more. Chaser tried to scream, banging her fists against the door and ignoring a beeping sound informing her to strap in and secure her luggage. It seemed she really had been the lucky one, amidst the chaos on her side of the ship, her escape pod rocketed off unharmed and unnoticed. Trying to reach for the control panel Chaser was hoping to do something, send a signal, change coordinates, anything! Then the engines kicked in, and she was flung to the ground, hand slamming against a back wall. With a groan, she tried to rise up, only for a second burst of speed to occur suddenly, and her head to slam against the metal floor.

Briefly she remembered Vezbica’s eager voice, telling them all how a hyper drive on their only two pods could be essential. He’d just wanted a new toy to play with, but he’d had enough of a point, and had been so excited. But now… well now Chaser could only think that she couldn’t recall what the coordinates had been set to.

 

It was at least a full day before the woman woke up, maybe a bit more, but when she did she was on her side, the pod doors still firmly shut, and her bag having slammed into her back. Repeatedly judging from how sore it felt. With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder, thankful to all that was holy that she was alive, despite the throbbing pain in her head and the blood she could feel caked to her hair. Placed a hand on the door panel the pod doors opened slightly and then stuck, and she had to force them open the rest of the way. Stumbling out she quickly lost her footing, coming down to her knees, one hand reaching up to her head with a groan. Her free hand slammed onto the floor and that was when she realized it fully. This wasn’t dirt, this was cold solid metal, and there was a sound of whirring engines and the faint buzzing of lights and repair drones.

Chaser wanted to get up, to focus on everything, to try and understand what ship she ended up on. After the hyper drive had kicked in nothing should have caught her, but the throbbing of her head made thinking about it too hard nearly impossible. The sound of shoes clacking against the floor soon became clear however, and a swish of air and boots clacking together indicated some sort of uniform motion from a large group of people. That certainly didn’t sound like any rebel or pirate group at least, but that knowledge only made her stomach fill with led.

As these thoughts raced steps came closer, an even and sure gait that sounded so militaristic any faint doubt left her about where she must be, even with her ability to reason so impaired. In front of her stopped two pairs of perfectly polished black shoes, and as she tried to regain her composure enough to speak a rich voice filtered down to her from above, it’s tones high and powerful, yet holding something she could not entirely ascertain the meaning of behind each syllable. “Now then, what exactly is it that we have here?”

“A dancing bantha trader, what do you think?” Aching from the throbbing of her head and the turmoil she had just faced Chaser couldn’t help the immediate retort that left her. The annoyance came through clearly but soon fled her as she turned her face upward to get a good look at this new military man.

Standing before her in a crisp white Imperial uniform, with what seemed to be a near obscene number of medals and honors pinned to his chest, was a tall man with deep red eyes and the most curious blue skin. For a second she thought this had to be a joke, but she recalled for a moment a rumor she’d heard in passing at a bar a few months ago. An alien Admiral, among the Imperial High Command. It was true, and he was right there. Chaser had always felt more at ease around aliens if they were military folks, but that uniform and those medals she was anything but calm. So as always when she felt overwhelmed, tired, and sore as hell, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I should’ve been a fucking florist.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Hello! I am aware this is a bit of a jump from my shorter and more sporadic One Piece works that I have put up, but I hope to be able to post a new chapter once to twice a week for this story, hopefully of comparable length, or close at least. Let me know how you liked it, and if you'd like to see more of Chaser Quill you can find her on tumblr at "the-blind-rascal"!


End file.
